


Remedial Cataclysm Preparedness

by itsactuallycorrine



Series: Community Appreciation Week 2017 [3]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: (By that I mean there's still UST between Jeff & Annie), 2012 Phenomenon, Canon Relationships, Fake Episode, Gen, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-22 17:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10701795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsactuallycorrine/pseuds/itsactuallycorrine
Summary: On December 20, 2012, the study group gathers at Abed, Troy, and Annie's apartment.





	Remedial Cataclysm Preparedness

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3! The fic prompt today is 'episode insert' and I was listening to a lot of Prince and "1999" came up and, well, here we are.
> 
> I really tried to figure out the correct timeline for this and as far as I can tell, this would fall after the season 4 finale, since Intro to Knots was Christmas 2012, and they always celebrate it early, so the semester/Jeff's graduation would have ended that December as well.

**_9 PM, December 20, 2012_ **

 

It doesn’t even take a week after Jeff’s graduation for Annie, Abed, and Troy to invite everyone over. Normally, Jeff would resist—he prefers any and all breaks from Greendale to be free of, well, Greendale or anything that reminds him of it. But this break is permanent and he can’t bring himself to tell them no. He finds he doesn’t even really want to.

 

They’re all sitting around the table, talking and laughing, content for once, so of course, Abed has to ruin it.

 

“Do you think it’ll happen right at midnight?” he asks, to the confusion of everyone.

 

“What’s going to happen, Abed?” Shirley takes the bait, making Jeff groan.

 

“Don’t engage him. You know it’s going to spiral into a thing about _Gremlins_ or something equally as stupid.”

 

Troy scoffs. “Your face is stupid. I’m sure whatever Abed is talking about is cool and we’ll have an adventure and it’ll be great.”

 

“The world is ending,” Abed says.

 

Troy jumps up from his chair. “WHAT?!? When? How? Why?”

 

“Tomorrow is December 21, 2012. A lot of people believe it’s due to the end of a Mayan calendar. No one knows exactly how. Yet.”

 

Annie rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Abed, is that why you asked me to invite everyone over?” When he nods, she softens a little, letting her arms drop. “I guess if the world _does_ end, it’s nice that we're all together.”

 

“Except Pierce,” Abed points out.

 

Annie waves him off. “Well, we tried. He didn’t want to come.”

 

“So we’re just going to sit here and wait for the world to end?” Troy asks, still panicking. “We have to stop it.”

 

“We can’t.”

 

“Abed, knock it off,” Jeff says without looking away from Troy. “The world’s not ending. You know how I know? That means people five thousand years ago made an accurate prediction. _Back to the Future_ couldn’t even get the following thirty years right. Are you going to trust these people you don’t even know over _Back to the Future?_ ”

 

Troy considers this and nods, taking his seat. “You make a good point.”

 

Jeff leans his chair back on two legs and tries not to grin too smugly. It never fails to give him a rush when he lawyers someone around to his way of thinking.

 

“Exactly!” Britta slaps the table, making her drink slosh out of her cup, which she mops up with her sleeve. “Well, not the part about _Back to the Future,_ because I never saw it—”

 

“ _What?_ ” Abed leans forward, murder in his eye, and Britta cowers.

 

“Well, I mean, it just didn’t look that interesting—”

 

“Stop!” Troy says, resting his hand on Abed’s should. “Britta, you should just stop there. It’s okay, man. It’ll be okay.”

 

Britta shakes her head, but keeps a wary eye on Abed. “I just mean, it’s extremely hard to believe that anyone could predict the end of the world with any accuracy.”

 

Shirley scoffs. “Of course the two of you would say that. You don’t believe in anything.”

 

“Shirley, do you actually believe it’s the end of the world?” Annie asks with a skeptical look.

 

“Well, no,” Shirley admits. “But it probably can’t hurt for all the sinners at the table to make it right with the Big Man, just in case.”

 

Abed points at her. “And that’s why I wanted everyone here. No, not for baptisms,” he clarifies when Shirley perks up. “But to give us all a chance to race against the clock, to finish the things we might regret, or make a final confession. Because what if the world _does_ end?”

 

Jeff struggles with the urge, but gives in and glances over at Annie, only to find her looking at him, her face pained and wistful. She looks away the instant after their eyes lock and he does the same.

 

Shirley gathers up her purse. “I’m sorry, everyone. But if—granted, it’s a big ‘if’— it is the end of the world, I want to be with Andre and my boys.”

 

They all hug her goodbye and Jeff knows everyone else is putting on a brave face as much as he is. Damn it, why is he buying into this? Obviously the world wasn’t going to end but—

 

“I don’t want to die with all these regrets,” Troy says, and everyone seems to draw a collective breath of relief that it’s out there on the table. “I never got to get married, have a real job, get a dog. I never got to watch the X-Games or find out what the X stands for.”

 

“Extreme,” Annie says.

 

Troy slumps. “Oh. Now I kind of regret wasting a regret on that.”

 

“They’re not like wishes, Troy. You don’t get a limited number.” Britta takes a drink. “Trust me, I have more than my fair share. Although, if you look on the bright side, at least the world ending means no more war. No more political corruption! Or deforestation or pollution! No more racism or sexism!”

 

“Yeah, but Britta,” Annie cuts in, “it also means we’ll be dead.”

 

Britta sighs into her drink with a tight, sheepish smile. “Right.”

 

“That’s why I’m proposing that all of us pick a regret and resolve it. Before the world ends, whenever it happens. The only catch is we have to pick one that doesn’t have actual real world consequences, just in case the world _doesn’t_ end.” Abed looks at his phone. “We’ve got a little over two hours until midnight. Who wants to go first?”

 

“It’s your idea, Abed. It only seems fair that we do yours first,” Jeff says, half so he doesn’t have to go first and half to put Abed on the spot.

 

But Abed nods. “I regret that I haven’t seen _Silver Linings Playbook_ yet. There’s so much Oscar buzz and I don’t mind David O. Russell’s work. I’ve had the bootleg for a few weeks, but they try too hard to get everyone to like Jennifer Lawrence. Now I find the sight of her face off-putting.” Everyone nods in shared agreement and Abed stands. “So we’re decided. Let’s watch it. We have just enough time that if the world does end at midnight, we might be able to fit in someone else’s regret, too.”

 

As the kitchen chair becomes too uncomfortable while they watch the movie, Jeff shifts and mutters to Annie, “This better not be our last day on Earth if this is how we’re spending it,” only to be shushed by everyone.

 

Two interminable hours later, it’s finally over and Troy looks at Abed with a hopeful smile. “Well?”

 

Abed considers the dark TV. “The ending was predictable, and I still don’t want to like Jennifer Lawrence, but I see the appeal.” He turns to the rest of the group. “Who’s next?”

 

Britta straightens up from where she’s slumped on the floor. “I guess me. Although I don’t know which regret to pic—”

 

“Your regret is not watching _Back to the Future_ ,” Abed says, walking over to his Blu-ray shelf.

 

“Abed…” Britta laughs. “I think I have more pressing—”

 

“Your regret,” he says again, voice somehow more placid and all the scarier for it, “is not watching _Back to the Future_.”

 

She throws her hands up. “Okay, fine! Let’s watch it then.”

 

“Guys,” Annie says, standing to stretch a bit, “are we really going to just sit here watching movies? I thought this was about, you know, no regrets? Living life to the fullest? Going out in a blaze of glory?”

 

Troy and Abed turn to each other as one. “ _Young Guns!_ ”

 

“No!” Annie stamps her foot. “My regret is not going to be watching a movie!”

 

“What is it then?” Britta asks, leaning back on her arms. “We’ve got fifteen minutes until midnight and we can’t watch a movie in that time anyway, so we might as well get to yours.”

 

Jeff forces himself to stay impassive when Annie glances his way and hesitates.

 

“Remember, it can’t have real-world consequences,” Abed says and Jeff wants to throw something at him.

 

But then Annie squares her shoulders and says, “Okay, I always wanted to learn how to dance. Formal dance instruction, like Britta and Troy.”

 

“Is this because there was dancing in the last movie?” Abed asks and Annie sputters.

 

“What? No! Well, maybe. Doesn’t watching movies like that make you want to dance?” When Abed doesn’t react, she rolls her eyes. “Maybe not _you,_ but every time I watch a movie with dancing, I regret not taking lessons.”

 

“We can show you how to dance, Annie.” Troy climbs to his feet and offers Britta a hand up. “Abed, you wanna be Annie’s partner?”

 

Jeff’s not sure who says, “No,” faster, him or Abed, but they lock gazes once it’s out there and Jeff works up a put-upon sigh. “I’ll do it.”

 

Midnight comes and goes while he and Annie laugh and fumble around, trying to follow Britta and Troy’s example, and no one notices that the world doesn’t end until both couples are able to make it through an entire song without anyone’s toes being squashed.

 

“It’s the twenty-first,” Abed says as the music fades out and the mood shatters.

 

“Well, the world hasn’t ended yet, so I guess we’re good!” Annie says, flushing as she steps back from where she’s pressed against Jeff.

 

“Well, I mean, it could happen at any point today, though, right?” Britta offers, when it’s clear none of them know what to do or say. “We should finish up everyone’s regrets, just in case.”

 

“Yes!” Troy says. “Britta’s next. I’ll make popcorn.”

 

So they spend the predawn hours watching _Back to the Future_ and then, inevitably, _Back to the Future II_ , when Britta complains that they didn’t even go to the future in the first one.

 

The sun shines fully through the window by the time they’re finished. Troy admits he regrets never learning the truth about Pierce’s indoor gym and, when Jeff loses a round of “nose goes”, he explains it in the most clinical way he can.

 

It still ends with Troy crying on the floor, rubbing at his ears. “I can never unhear it! I can never unhear it! I can’t believe Shirley let me get on that swing!”

 

Abed turns to Jeff as Annie calms the last of Troy’s whimpers. “You’re up, Jeff.”

 

“Actually,” he says, climbing to his feet, “mine is a phone call. I’ve got some things I forgot to say to Alan.”

 

“No consequences, that includes burning bridges.”

 

“Trust me, Abed. That bridge is already burnt.”

 

“You can make your call in my room, Jeff,” Annie offers, patting Troy’s back. “For some privacy.”

 

He nods in thanks and walks into her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him and pulling up his contacts.

 

As the phone rings, he exhales noisily, trying to combat the nerves, but they only increase when the line is picked up. “Mom?”

 

“Jeffrey? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?” his mom says on the other end, and Jeff closes his eyes against the wave of love and guilt that always accompanies these calls now.

 

“No, I’m fine, Mom. I, uh, I actually have some good news,” he starts, then proceeds to tell her everything, from the moment he decided to fake his degree until now.

 

By the time he’s done, she’s cried at least twice and he’s come damn close once, but he feels lighter. Cleaner. He promises to come visit soon and tucks his phone in his pocket.

 

Back in the living room, Troy and Annie are curled around one another fast asleep on the floor and Britta is passed out in one of the recliners. Only Abed is waiting up for him, though he’s clearly fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open as he lies against a pile of cushions.

 

“This was a good idea,” Jeff admits, settling into the empty recliner and kicking back. “Thanks, Abed.”

 

Abed smiles and nods, dozing off, and Jeff follows soon after.


End file.
